Violet Veilchenblau

My first 'Veilchenblau' bloom

Okay all you rose experts, have you seen this one before?  This rose is about 1.5" diameter, blooms in clusters, and is also known as the "Blue Rambler."   Yes, I know, she's not very blue right now, but her red-violet tones fade to violet as she ages.  Her name, 'Veilchenblau', literally translates to "violet-blue".

One of my Zonal Denial efforts last year was to once more obtain and plant, and to overwinter for the first time, 'Veilchenblau', a  Hybrid Multiflora rambler-form rose that was introduced by Johann Schmidt of Germany in 1909.  I first glimpsed 'Veilchenblau' at Wave Hill in 2008, where she was in full bloom on June 18th.  I included her the following year as a "bonus" rose in an order of own-root rose bands, but the rose I received had one root in the grave when it came and died almost immediately after planting in the hot Kansas sun.  Fortunately, good sense took hold as I read about her habits and hardiness, and I put aside my budding infatuation for 'Veilchenblau' and resolved not to try again.  Last year, however,  when I ordered 'Red Intuition' and needed to choose a minimum of three roses to complete the order, I saw her name in the catalog and filled her name in on my team roster.  She may have been chosen last, but I put her in my starting lineup and I've told her to not be a shrinking violet.

'Veilchenblau' at Wave Hill, June, 2008

'Veilchenblau' did overwinter this time, so although she is on R. multiflora roots, I'll forgive her as long as she continues to grow and covers the split rail fence I placed at her back.  She not very tall yet, my 'Veilchenblau', but she is supposed to reach 10-20' in a couple of seasons and be a fairly vigorous rose.  Although the bud above is the first to bloom, there are many clusters of buds on her and three vigorous canes have already sprouted and are approaching two feet high.  I'm hoping that next year she has stretched around the corner of the fence and is touching the two 'Red Cascade' infants that I transplanted recently.  'Veilchenblau' only blooms once a year, but I can forgive her since she is also nearly thornless.  References state that she is hardy to Zone 4b and she proved that to me this past winter, so another year or two and I'll get an idea what the old gal can really do.

In Empress of the Garden, by G. Michael Shoup, 'Veilchenblau' is listed in a section called "The Elegant Climbers", and Shoup writes "A must for the garden, 'Veilchenblau' rarely suckers or spreads by seed. Easy to train and graceful, she blends peacefully into landscapes...her cooling colors settle softly over her foliage like a translucent fog..."  She?  Her?  It is comforting for me to see that even the experts attach gender to individual roses and therefore it may not a sign that I'm missing a marble or four.   Either that, or at least I might have an interesting cell-mate (Shoup) after they come and lock me away.  If you are in the mood for a more gender-neutral but engaging discussion of 'Veilchenblau', read Mac Grisold's essay on her in Roses; A Celebration, edited by Wayne Winterrowd.  Mac calls 'Veilchenblau' her favorite rose, and "beautiful and vulgar," "indecently purple," and "outrageous", but still manages to keep "it" a genderless friend.  Who's fooling who?

An American Pillar

For this Labor Day of the year of our Lord 2010, I'd like to highlight a now infrequently seen but delightful rambler, the rose 'American Pillar'.  'American Pillar' has been variously described as being a cross between  R. wichuraiana and the native prairie rose, or R. wichuraiana and an unknown hybrid perpetual, but regardless of its parentage, the result was a once-blooming cold-hardy and disease resistant rambler.  In bloom, it's covered with hundreds of small (1 inch) five-petaled carmine pink flowers with white center eyes and golden stamens. Although it's once-blooming and lacks discernible fragrance, it blooms for a long (3 week) period towards the end of blooming of the other roses, and then leaves behind a number of small orange-red hips for winter interest.  It was introduced by famous rose-breeder Dr. Walter Van Fleet in 1902, so this rose has its centennial well behind it. 

Here in the Flint Hills, 'American Pillar' is unfailingly healthy and makes a monster of a rose.  I've read stories of it rambling around to 30 feet and smothering everything in its path, but here in Kansas new canes reach about 12-16 feet by the end of a season and I seldom grow a cane into year two. In my garden, I train the rose by spiraling it on a ten-foot tall four-by-four post and it regularly threatens to pull the post over under its bulk.  Many new canes arise annually from the base, and since those canes are said to provide the best bloom, I trim out the two-year old canes in favor of the new canes in late winter.  This annual cleaning improves air flow to the otherwise clogged center and gives me an occasion to collect and tie up the new canes which have sprawled over several 'Rugelda' roses, a "White Profusion" buddleia, two rustled cemetery roses and a number of daylilies in the near vicinity.  It makes, as you can see at the right, a stunning display in my garden to highlight the end of the first summer bloom cycle of the roses.  

'American Pillar' is a long-lived rose as well.  Plants set in the ground almost a century ago at the Pierre du Pont estate (now Longwood Gardens) are still climbing over metal arches in a courtyard.  I've grown 'American Pillar' for 9 years now in its present position and it shows no signs of weakness and never needs spraying for fungal disease. 

In the interests of full disclosure, I might not mind it if the rose would weaken, at least a little.  Those vigorous 1/2 inch thick canes are armed with exceedingly vicious thorns and I try to do the annual pruning and lashing up of 'American Pillar' on a particularly cold day so my skin doesn't feel the pricks so much and so that all the blood stops flowing and freezes quickly.  I've had bouts with this rose that leave me looking like I'm one of the victims in a slasher movie, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  Those incredibly thick blooms are simply too gorgeous to turn away from.